


Won't you spare me over (till another year)

by Lyssamania



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Horror, Inspired By Until Dawn (Video Game), Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Slow Burn, and i want them to be complete and happy, in as much as i can write horror, this is really friendship centric bc the losers are my children, which is not great but workin on it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 21:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssamania/pseuds/Lyssamania
Summary: Six years after the death of Georgie Denbrough the Losers' Club reunites once again to rekindle their forgotten friendship. But Blackwood Pines isn't done with them.or,The It Until Dawn Au that you didn't even know you wanted.





	Won't you spare me over (till another year)

**Author's Note:**

> can 100% be read without knowing a single thing about until dawn!

**1989**

“Bill, do you wanna come play with me outside?” Georgie said, popping up on the other side of the couch where he was sitting. Bill clutched the controller in his hand, trying to divide his attention between being absolutely fucking destroyed by Mike, and his brother. 

“N-n-not now, Georgie, we can go luh-later,” he stuck his tongue out in concentration, to no avail, as the K.O. flashed across the screen. Shit. 

Mike pumps his fist in the air with a quiet ‘yes!’ and pats Bill on the back. “Better luck next time, bud.” Bill slapped his hand away with a huff. “Oh f-f-fuck off, you know you always win.”

“Alright loser, make room,” Stan flops down onto the couch between them, kicking his feet up and snatching the controller from Bill’s hands. “I wanna have a go at him.” Bill sighs and gets up.

“Bill,” Georgie whines, tugging at Bill’s sleeve, “please, will you come play with me, please.” He busts out those trademarked Denbrough puppy eyes, which, if it were anyone else, would’ve made the poor unfortunate soul at the end of that look give into his every whim. Anyone, but Bill, because he wasn’t just immune to that look, oh no, he goddamn perfected it. 

Bill knelt down to Georgies height and smoothed his hands over the edges of his brothers bright, yellow parka. Outside the wind was howling and the snow showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. A lone branch sat ticking on one of the windows. “I’m s-suh-sorry Georgie I’m just feeling a-a-a bit sick right now, we can go p-play in the morning when it's less cold, okay?” He ruffled Georgie’s hair and stood up, making his way to the kitchen. 

The house was filled with warmth and laughter and cheap booze (and hot chocolate special made for Georgie by Eddie). Light from the fireplace flickered in a slow drawl, floating past the surfaces in the living room. The sound of video game slaughter and obnoxious shittalk fills up the air. Across from the couch, Richie held Eddie in a choke hold, trying to peek at his cards, while Eddie clawed at his arms and jammed his bony elbows into Richies stomach. 

"Fuck off, asshole! It's not my fault your dumb ass went all in with a bad bet!" 

"Oh, I went all in alright," Richie grinned, "all in your mom last night, Kaspbrak!"

Sitting opposite of them was Bev, snorting in Ben's shoulder, making those breathy choked off laughs that barely made any sound but made your whole body shake from the force of it, while Ben was quietly stealing chips from the pot and adding it to their respective piles, glancing at the two in amusation. 

Everyone was just so busy and Georgie really wanted to play outside. They never get any good snow in Derry and this place was filled with it! It was already dark outside, the sun having set hours ago, but… it wouldn’t do any harm if he just went and made some snow angels, right? Just a bit. 

Georgie made up his mind. He sneaked his way to the door quietly opening and closing the arched wooden door, sneaking out into a hallway. After reaching for his hat and gloves, he opened the front door, immediately relishing in the cold wind, and the icy snowflakes landing on his cheeks. 

He wasted no time and launched himself into the snow, loving how fluffy it was to sink into it. Distracted by the cold, he didn’t notice a rustling in the bushes, until a voice spoke up. 

“Hiya, Georgie,” said the voice from the woods, “do you like playing in the snow?”

Georgie stilled. “Uhm yeah…”

“But then why are you playing all alone? A boy like you surely has a ton of friends to play with!” the voice continued, low and raspy. Shiver-inducing, even here. 

“My brother is sick, he said we’d go play tomorrow.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, you wanna play today, right?” it said, “Oh, I know! Why won’t you play with me?”

“Sure.” Georgie stood up, and dusted off his knees. “Where are you?”

“Im sorry, but I’m really shy. I’m afraid to go out into the light. Can you come to me, oh pretty please?”

Georgie took a step towards the woods. “This way?”

“Closer,” it said, a low drawl, almost lazy, falling across his voice. 

He took another step. “Like this?”

“Yes,_ closer_.”

And so Georgie stepped closer. He got closer and closer, noticing small glinting reflections of lights coming from behind the bushes. Only when he got closer for the last time did he notice that the lights were rows of sharp teeth, and that the voice, low and raspy, came from a gaping mouth, murderous bloodred eyes staring right at him. It was the last time he got closer, but it was enough. 

The most tragic thing of all, the residents inside the house wouldn’t have known something was wrong until it was too late. 

Come morning, after hours of searching, when sunlight breaks through the bleak mountain tops, they find his hat, warm yellow, all but frozen in the deep throes of the forest. It’s the last they’ll ever see of him.

**1995**

“And for our last bit of news of the day, today marks the six year anniversary of the disappearance of Georgie Denbrough. The 11-year old boy left the safety of his parent’s lodge and headed out into the forest one night, never returning. The police have no suspicions of foul play. As always if you happen to have any information regar-” Bev turned the radio off, before sighing and leaning her head against the glass. Her eyes fixating on the passing trees, occasionally brushing her red hair out of her eyes. 

It all just felt so surreal, receiving Bill’s video message through the mail. A lone cd, _Bev_ written in his boyish, messy scrawl on the dull silver side. 

_Bill stood in front of the camera, a restless energy evident in his shoulders. “H-h-hey guys, it’s buh-been a while, huh.” A huff of breath, supposing to be a laugh but falling just short of it, escaped his lips. “I know we haven’t been in touch lately, what with everyone spread out across the country like this, but I- fuck- I-I just miss you all, miss all the fun we had together._

_He scratches his head and glances down. “Which is why I’m organizing another Blackwood winter getaway, y-y-you know, like the old times.” He looks up again, fixing his eyes to the camera lense with a determined glance “I know what you're all thinking, but its been a long time since Georgie- since he- since that. It would mean so much to me if you all came. Okay… suh-so! Let me know, okay? He walks towards the camera and picks it, the frame freezes on his face. End video._

“Now you sure you wanna do this, honey?” A voice speaks up at the wheel. Her aunt keeps her eyes fixated on the tricky mountain roads, but somehow manages to give Bev a look all the same. “I gotta say I don't really like the idea of you spendin’ time in some far away mountain cabin’.” 

Bev breathes. “I’m sure, Marge, it’ll be fine. Thanks for bringing me, by the way.” Marge hums. “If you say so."

The car went on for a few miles, trudging along through the thick snow, when Bev noticed a beat up cabin sticking out through the trees. “Hey, you can pull up right there,” she tells Marge. The car comes to a screeching halt in front of the entrance lodge. 

“I’ll come and pick you up same time next week, okay?” Marge said. 

“Yes, that’ll be great, thanks. See ya,” Bev put up two fingers to her head and made a casual saluting motion before opening the car door. 

She stepped out of the car and immediately felt the wind strike through her body. Shivering slightly, she grabbed for her cigarettes, sticking one in her mouth and lighting it with her scratched up zippo, before glancing at the old, beat up sign in front of her. Blackwood Pines it said, god, what a shitty name for a forest like what is this a bootleg _Cabin in the woods_? The car behind her drove off. She watched it disappear from the horizon, then takes a drag and steps forward onto the beat down dirt path. 

The thought of seeing her friends again made her nervous. More than nervous, though, it made her excited. She’ll never admit this out loud, Lord forbid Beverly Marsh would ever talk about mushy feelings, but God she missed her boys. She missed their easy childhood days, longed for those daredevil jumps into the quarry. Maybe this trip’ll be their friendships saving grace, but on a glass half empty it could quickly turn into a Big Brother-like tension for a week. 

“Well, here goes nothing, I guess,” she mutters disappearing off into the trees.

**Author's Note:**

> Started a new until dawn save and this is what happened, consider me your personal dr. hill *fingerguns* im a first year with a shit schedule so updates are whenever 
> 
> Some notes!  
\- In 1989 the losers are all around 15/16, making them like 20/21 in 1995  
\- Bev doesn't have her license yet bc same  
\- The story line will follow the canon where everybody lives, thus also the decisions leading up to that. (no character death on my watch <strike>sorry georgie</strike>) 
> 
> Next chapter we’ll get some of that Tozier charm introduced to the story! So get excited for some banter, shenanigans and all that good shit.


End file.
